


Falling

by LilLayneeLoo



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Clark Kent Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt, Fights, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Makeup, Married Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Minor Original Character(s), Miscarriage, Original Character Death(s), Parents Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne, Sad, Stillbirth, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:27:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25948060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilLayneeLoo/pseuds/LilLayneeLoo
Summary: Bruce lost her and Clark far too close together, and it's too much for him to take.Warning: this story contains reference to a stillbirth baby, and a suicide attempt. If this is triggering for you, please read with caution.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 11
Kudos: 133





	Falling

**Author's Note:**

> I'm feeling angsty and sad as fuck tonight for some reason, and I was in the mood for more mpreg. This is what happened. I'm sorry. It's shitty but I'm still publishing cause why tf not.

Bruce had extended his arm, pressing his palm flat against the cool sheets on the empty opposite side of the bed.

It was raining outside, the gentle tapping of droplets on the window serving as a focal point as he thought, absentmindedly rubbing the cotton of a small pink blanket between his thumb and finger. 

While looking at the sky made his chest ache with a pain worse than the stitches in his abdomen, he could not bring himself to look away. It was as if any moment, he expected blue and red to emerge from the deep gray covering, and he couldn’t bear the thought of missing it.

It had been days. Weeks maybe. He didn’t really know.

The only reason he was even semi-cognizant of the time of day was that Alfred insisted on bringing him coffee in the morning, a small bite at lunch, and a full fledged dinner, regardless of the fact that Bruce hadn’t touched any of it. However long it had been since his last meal, he wasn’t hungry.

The boys dropped in--Dick mostly, but Tim, Damian, and sometimes even Jason. Bruce wanted to talk to them; hated himself for forcing them to sit awkwardly in the heavy haze of his own heartbreak. 

But he didn’t know what to say.

Even Damian had adjusted to Clark’s presence in their lives, a constant for so many years, and then to the idea of a new body in the midst of the chaos. Bruce was certain that both abrupt departures had affected the entire household, but he could not bring himself to say a word.

He cared about them, despite Clark’s absence and the loss they had faced rendering him unable to care about much of anything at all. Maybe that’s why he was drifting away from his children; maybe they just reminded him of the one he’d lost.

The boys would chat. They’d come in and sit with him through the night, detailing their patrols and summarizing League Business he had been missing.

But everything Batman reminded him of Superman.

Tim kept him posted on everything to do with Wayne Enterprises. He was thankful for Lucius Fox; his second youngest was capable, but not yet old enough to take up Brucie’s mantle. Tim had accompanied Lucius to all of the galas, filling Bruce in on the latest in Gotham business gossip for the past 4 months. 

But everything to do with the Wayne business reminded him of why he’d taken time off in the first place.

Clark and he had fought crime together; saved the world a few times side-by-side, and when that was over, they’d live out their alternate lives in the same way. A bumbling reporter from rural Kansas who had fallen for, married, and knocked-up billionaire Bruce Wayne was a story that the public, as well as Bruce himself, had adored.

Bruce never would have guessed that something like this would be enough to tear them apart.

They had loved together and lost together. Clark had helped Bruce figure out how to parent his children, and both had been so ready to continue.

But laying in his now empty bed, Bruce was certain that he couldn’t do it anymore. Clark was the one who kept him grounded; stopped him from going too far.

He endangered his boys’ lives by taking them on patrol; and he should have learned he wasn’t fit for parenting when Jason had died.

  
But he hadn’t, and now it had happened again. It was all his fault. 

Bruce pushed himself up to a sitting position, finally tearing his eyes away from the sky and glancing down at his abdomen. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, creasing his brow and standing slowly. He hastily pulled his hand away from his stomach, finding himself reaching for the bump that was no longer there.

He walked past the empty white crib and out into the hallway. 

He wandered the manor for a while, relishing in the peace that came with the late hour. Eventually he found the study and stood before the grandfather clock for many minutes.

With a heavy sigh, he set the time and watched as it pulled away from the wall. The stairs lead him down into the cave where he was slightly relieved to see five costumes on display.

He pulled down the farthest one, tugging the rough Kevlar over his bare skin and glancing back at the staircase.

He left the car behind; neglected a helmet as well and mounted one of the bikes. He tore out of the cave and away from the manor, entranced in the way the wind whipped past the cowl, billowing in his cape and eliciting a tugging sensation that reminded him of the kicking of little feet. He drove fast. He had nobody to protect anymore.

The skyline of his city towered over him as he ditched the bike, grappling up the side of Wayne Tower and assuming one of his famous perches. Gotham was surprisingly quiet as Batman settled into his position, turning his hidden face toward the sky once again. 

Several hours passed. The rain had ceased and the clouds began to dissipate. He should have resolved that Clark wouldn’t be coming back; and that Clark didn’t want him anymore. He should have realized it long before he found himself at the edge of the roof. 

“Clark,” he whispered. “If you’re listening...I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lost her. I’m sorry I fell apart when you needed me. I’m sorry I couldn’t be the person you deserved. I’m sorry that I pushed you away. I really do...did...fuck it. I still love you so goddamn much, and I wish I could do it all over again. I wish I had told you how much I needed you. I wish I had told you how much you meant to me. I’d give anything… all that I have, hell all that I am, for one more minute with you. A chance to try again, to try and talk about this without shutting you out... I just want you to know that I’m sorry. I’m so...sorry. For everything.”

The toes of his boots were over the precipice now. Before he stepped further, he peeled the cowl off and tossed it aside.

“I know I’m fucked up. I’ve been so close to the edge for so long, but you kept me back from it. She was supposed to be ours. She was going to be new and exciting, and even though I was scared, you made it better. You’ve always made it better, and I took you for granted. I was selfish. I’m still selfish. I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

The feeling of freefalling was something Bruce had always been certain he would never become adjusted to. But for once, this one time, it was welcome. 

He was feeling. Feeling cold and adrenaline and fear and  _ something other than sadness _ . He could hear the whistle of the wind as it whipped past his ears and through his hair. He closed his eyes and waited, relishing in the bliss of the peaceful night and the thought of seeing his parents again after so many years. He wondered if she was with them, if he’d see her too wherever he was going. He waited for the fall to come to an end, for the hard concrete to replace the rush of the sky.

Instead, the whistling faded, and the rough wind turned gentle and soft. As Bruce became conscious of the warmth filling in around him, he also realized he was wrapped in familiar arms.

“I never should have left,” Clark whispered into Bruce’s hair, holding him firmly. “We were both fragile, and you needed me just as much as I needed you. This wasn’t your fault, but I blamed you. I was angry at the world and I turned that anger toward you instead of talking to you. You’re not the only one who kept his mouth shut at the worst possible time, and I forgive you.”

Bruce’s eyes opened, and he pulled his head away from Clark’s chest to look up into his eyes. Had he not been so wrapped up in his emotions, he would have startled at Clark’s civilian persona. But his mind was elsewhere.

He couldn’t find the words. He couldn’t process what he had just done. He couldn’t process that Clark had caught him, despite everything he had done to hurt him. He couldn’t process everything they had gained and lost in the last few months.

All he could process was the racing of his heart, the feeling of safety rolling across his skin and settling into his bones. He craned his neck as Clark lowered his chin.

They kissed as they flew above the clouds, and Bruce was unsure if the wetness on his cheek was from the clouds or his tears. When they broke away, Bruce settled his face back into the crook of Clark’s neck and realized that it was the latter.

“I loved her, Clark,” he whispered through his tears. “I loved her more than I knew it was possible to love someone you’d never met…”

Clark’s grip became impossibly tighter, and he pressed his nose into Bruce’s hair. Tears fell from his eyes as well.

“I loved her too,” he returned. “Every time I looked at you, I felt a rush of it. I had so many hopes for her, for us, for our future…and I just… it all came crashing down when she...when Leslie… when it happened.”

Bruce gripped the flannel of Clark’s shirt and sobbed into his neck. They stayed floating there for a long time, wrapped around each other, crying, and whispering everything that had remained unspoken since the day she died. Eventually Clark descended back toward the ground, their tears beginning to subside as they found their footing atop Wayne Tower.

“I just...I can’t do this...without you,” Bruce hiccuped. 

“I can’t without you either,” Clark responded. “I’ve been listening to you, checking in on you. I wanted to come back as soon as I left, but I wasn’t sure. But I wasn’t going to...I couldn’t let you… I don’t want anything to happen to you. I’m here now. You don’t have to do it without me now, and I want you to know that you won’t ever have to again. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

  
  
  



End file.
